Natasha Romanoff jumped awake. She sat up in bed and took in her surroundings. Bedroom. Her apartment. Avengers tower.

Then it hit her:

Clint didn't come home with her.

The assassin laid back down in bed and drew her knees up to her chest. Her red hair rested over her eyes. Clint, where are you?

He was essential to the team. The first Avenger to be lost.

Kidnapped. Natasha watched her best friend taken away from her. She didn't tell the others about his kidnapping. To the rest of her team, they were separated and she lost  communication with him.

"Miss Romanoff, there is a box in the lab enlisted to you," JARVIS informed.

She tossed the blankets back and got out of bed. She took one glance at the clock. "At this hour? It's three in the morning, Jarvis."

There was no comment from JARVIS.

21 Days

Natasha walked to the lab and over to the exact place JARVIS told her to go. There was a wrinkled plastic bag tied at the handles on the teleportation pad.

Black Widow tore the sack open with her nails and froze when she saw the thick material. Her hand floated over the red, grey, and black material before gently picking it up like broke glass. Her heart pounded quickly as she noticed the large amount of blood that stained parts of the vest. 

"Clint..." The assassin managed to choke out.

She choked on her tears for a minute before wrapping the vest back up in the crackling bag. She paused again when she found a note stapled to the back.

Natasha tore it from the staple and read it.

Avengers,
We are the ones who took Hawkeye from the hotel. He is now in critical condition in a military hospital. You may come and see him. The location is written on the back of this paper.

The assassin brightened up when she realized Clint was still alive. She asked no questions about the bloody vest, and she didn't question the simple note. All that mattered was that Clint was alive.

Natasha, how could you be so stupid?

Natasha immediately called her team to the Commons, then ran there with the wrapped up vest and note in her hands.

Out of breath, she reached the Commons after everyone arrived. "Guys...I know where he is...he's alive."

21 Days

It was one of those days, Clint figured.

Most of the time the lab assistants and researchers acted like his doctors. The ones that hate his guts because he denies any help or medication.

Like when he got his first surgery in a secret SHIELD hospital. Okay, that wasn't entirely his fault. He couldn't stop his appendix from exploding. A bullet just had to hit him in the weak spot of his old vest and pierce his appendix.

Clint smirked at the memory in his head. He bit their hands, kicked needles away, and literally had five people holding him down when they were sedating him for surgery. After that, he'd wake up in the best bed restraints.

Just like here.

"God dammit, hold still!" The male lab assistant growled, jabbing the sharp needle at Clint again.

The SHIELD agent once again dodged the needle and twisted the other's man's arm. He used his other hand to press against the same man's neck.

Clint took a sharp breath in before talking. "You took me from my team, you stripped me of my dignity, and you expect me to obey you like a quiet lab rat?" The archer then chuckled. "Not gonna happen." He pushed the man away from him. The syringe clattered on the tile floor.

Hawkeye ripped the neck of the choking paper hospital gown. "Just let me go!"

Two other assistants appeared on either side of him. They both grabbed his arms and forced him back into the white dentist-like chair. He was now facing a dark window, and the lights were blinding against the white room.

A sharp ring from a microphone made Clint squeeze his eyes shut and duck his head, cringing at the pain.

One of the assistants strapped the circulation cutting restraint around his wrists. The other, the blonde, held up a glistening needle and grabbed Clint's arm where a vein was popped up.

"Don't. You. Dare!" Clint growled, trying to pull away. The assistant he had hurt earlier gripped his arm and twisted it. The archer clenched his teeth together in pain, but did not cry out.

"This'll keep you still." He jabbed the needle into his vein and held it there before releasing it. The assistant wound tape around his arm to hold it in place.

"I don't think a bag full of saline is going to keep me from going any where. Are you sure you know who I am?"

"Yes, and we made sure we got a bag just for you. Have fun." The same assistant smirked at the archer before pressing a button on the stand, then walking out of the room with the other man. Clint heard a few locks on the door click.

The lights flickered off in the room Hawkeye was in, then a bright spot light turned on above him. Clint looked up and squinted at the light, then looked back into the now lit up room on the other side of the window.

A man in a blue lab coat spoke first. "Hello, Agent Barton."

"What the hell did your freaks hook up to-" Hawkeye then groaned in pain, feeling the burning liquid enter his bloodstream.

Clint heard Blue Coat laugh into the microphone. "Do you know why you're here, agent?"

Clint thought about it for a second before trying to laugh through the pain. "Because this is all one big SHIELD prank?"

"Are you really that stupid?" Clint just shrugged.

Blue Coat slammed his fist down on the table, making Clint jump. "You murderer! Since 2007, you and your Widow friend have killed over 500 of our agents."

"Just 500? Damn. We need to pick up the pace."

Blue Coat growled, then nodded at one of the woman researchers. She nodded back at him, then turned around, and left the room. The door clicked open and she entered the Torture Zone, as Clint was now calling it.

Maybe he could seduce her. If Red Nails can pull that act on him, why couldn't he pull that act on one of the women there? Laura would kill him if she found out.

"Hey..."

"Don't talk to me, murderer."

"C'mon, I don't know how many of you guys I killed while under mind control."

No answer from her. She pulled out a syringe.

"What's your favorite movie?"

"Shut up." She injected it into the IV bag.

"You think I'm cute."

"Do you want sedated?"

"But you think I'm hot." He wasn't good at this.

The woman lost patience and pressed her hand up against his throat. "Don't test me."

"Test you? Why would I be doing that?"

"You're not getting out anytime soon. But guess what? You get to see your team soon."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because men on death row always get a last request. We figured it was yours." She released him and left.

"Wait. Death row? Hey, come back!" Clint started to pull at his restraints. He then started screaming in pain once the new medicine mixed with the original one.

He watched Blue Coat tap the microphone again, then lean down to it.

"Clint Barton, you have twenty days, twenty-three hours, and fifty-nine minutes left to live."

How was that? Sorry if it was a little two fast.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it!

Sorry for any spelling, grammar, or sentence structure mistakes. No flames please!

I'd like to thank those who support this story by viewing, voting, or commenting on this story. Your support means a lot!

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to DinoRexy3 , ThatGirlFromSJ  and ChristielJackson because they are awesome people with amazing stories. They have also dedicated things to me, and I feel like I should do the same thing. :)

The most dedications I will do per chapter will be three so...I will probably dedicate more chapters in the future to awesome supporters. :)

Let's just say that Clint gets another operation in the next chapter.